


your smile speaks books to me

by foxwatson



Category: Bill & Ted (Movies)
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Songwriting, Stargazing, happy birthday bill!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:01:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27039154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxwatson/pseuds/foxwatson
Summary: Before meeting Ted, Bill sort of hated his birthday. Now he's grown to love their special shared birthday traditions - but he's worried now that they're living in an apartment, where they can finally throw Bill a real birthday party, things won't be the same. Ted promises he's gonna make sure this birthday is special - but Bill has no idea what he's planning.
Relationships: Ted "Theodore" Logan/Bill S. Preston Esq.
Comments: 14
Kudos: 127





	your smile speaks books to me

**Author's Note:**

> title credit to a lovely line in queen's "breakthru" which i listened to on repeat while writing this, because that line KEEPS making me think of these two. however, in this universe.......... let's all just assume queen didn't write that line. wink.

Bill’s always had a complicated relationship with his birthday. He’d spent most of his childhood having pretty bogus birthday parties anyways - and once he had moved to San Dimas, his birthday had been the cause of the one time he’d ever hurt Ted’s feelings, though it had been totally and completely an accident.

They’d only known each other for a few years when it’d happened. It was the very first year of middle school, and they were gearing up for Ted’s birthday. Usually, Captain Logan’s rule was that Ted only got to have one friend spend the night, and it was always Bill. They got to have pizza and stay up late - the only rule was that they had to look after Deacon, too, but for a little kid Deacon wasn’t too bad. He usually just watched movies with Bill and Ted and he almost never complained.

Still, this year, when it came time for Ted to invite Bill over like he always did, Ted said instead, “Who do you think I should invite for my birthday this year?”

When he was 12, it had kind of felt like the end of the world. “What do you mean, dude? Aren’t we - it’s usually just us, right?”

Ted had ducked his head, hiding behind his hair, and fidgeted with the edge of his binder. “Well you’ve never invited me over for your birthday. I don’t even know when it is, dude.”

Bill had blinked, surprised, and gone red in the face. “I don’t - I don’t even have a birthday party, Ted.”

Frowning, Ted looked up. “What does that mean? Everyone has a birthday.”

“Well, yeah, it’s - it’s in October. But we just - we’re usually hanging out anyways. I just never say anything. My dad says I can’t have a birthday party unless we invite the whole family and when we moved here he said - like, it was my choice. Either we could invite everybody or I could just not have a birthday party, so I told him it didn’t matter. I hate having my whole family there, dude, it’s totally bogus.” Bill had stumbled over his words, rushing to try and get Ted to understand. As he spoke, Ted’s expression had gone from skeptical to shocked, his mouth hanging open.

“So you really don’t have a birthday party? It’s not just - you haven’t been not inviting me?”

Bill shook his head. “Dude, who else would I invite? You’re the only person I’d really want there.”

With that, any lingering tension had cleared, and Ted had grinned at him brightly. Bill had been so relieved he wanted to reach over and hug Ted - but they’d stopped doing that after being made fun of relentlessly at the start of the year. Instead, he just reached out his fingers and wiggled them against Ted’s, making Ted break out into giggles.

Ted’s laughter had turned back to a frown, though, within just a moment. “Dude, I can’t believe your dad would do that, though. That’s most heinous.”

“Well he still gets me presents and stuff. It’s not that bad.”

Though he started to shake his head, Bill watched as he stopped, and then his face lit up. “Bill! I have a most excellent idea! We should just have a secret birthday party for you. I mean - well first we should make up for the ones we missed, dude, I’ll get you some presents, but then next time you have a birthday, we can make a plan!”

Bill had grinned back at him, flustered, and nodded, feeling a happy kind of flutter in his chest for what was maybe the first of many, many times.

Since then, he and Ted have developed an excellent yearly tradition of either getting out of the house or doing something that’s not on Bill’s actual birthday, so his dad doesn’t notice. Bill wasn’t sure by the time they graduated high school if his dad would even care anymore anyways, but the secrecy kind of became part of the fun.

This year is different, though, because it’s Bill’s first birthday since they got their own place. Because they’re finally on their own, that means they don’t really need to sneak around anymore. They have friends now, too - Missy and her friends, the princesses, and they could invite some of them over and Bill could have a real birthday party.

Except the problem is that Bill doesn’t really want one. He thinks about the big birthday parties he had as a kid, all the people he was supposed to talk to - even the party they threw for the princesses, and he just feels like he doesn’t really have fun at any of those. He wants to do the same thing they do every year, hiding in the back of a movie theater with Ted, sharing a box of candy, or buying stuff at the record store the day before and hiding in their room to listen to it all day, ordering pizza instead of going out. He doesn’t want to lose their tradition - and he doesn’t want to lose the time he gets with Ted. It’s practically its own birthday present.

His birthday is most steadily approaching, though, and Ted hasn’t even said anything. Not that they really tend to do much planning in advance - but if everything’s gonna be different, Bill wants to have time to make himself feel prepared.

Asking Ted to just stay home with him feels - strange. Instead, he decides to just casually bring up his birthday one day while they’re standing in the kitchen eating cereal for dinner. “So - I guess my birthday’s in like two weeks, dude.”

Ted blinks, raising his eyebrows, and nods. “Oh, yeah.” He smiles slightly. “Hey I guess you could have a real party now, right? Since we got our own place.”

It’s obvious from Ted’s casual tone he doesn’t feel the strange attachment to their yearly tradition that Bill does. He ducks his head and pulls his hat down in the back. “Yeah, I guess so. We did have that party for the princesses, and that went okay.”

“Do you not wanna have a party, dude?”

He doesn’t - of course he doesn’t, but for some reason it feels strange to say that. Obvious about something that Bill doesn’t even usually let himself put words to. He just shrugs. “No, yeah, course I do.”

“Well if you don’t wanna plan it, you shouldn’t have to anyways! I’ll figure something out and I’ll make sure you have a most resplendent birthday, Bill.”

Ted’s easy enthusiasm makes Bill smile a little, but he knows his, “Thanks, Ted,” still doesn’t have its usual energy. Still, because it’s the one thing he seems able to say, he continues, “You always do, though, dude.”

That makes Ted whip his head around to make actual eye contact, and there’s a pink flush over his cheeks as he blinks at Bill. “Really?”

Bill looks down, resisting the urge to shuffle his feet as he shrugs. “Of course. I always have fun whenever we go to the movies or just - hang out listening to music all day or whatever. Without you I still probably wouldn’t even do anything for my birthday. I always hated it when I was a kid.”

“I didn’t know that,” Ted says softly.

“Well that time we talked about it I was more worried about the fact that you thought I wasn’t inviting you on purpose. That was like - the most heinous thing that ever happened.”

“Dude,” Ted says, bumping his shoulder softly against Bill’s. “It was only heinous for like - well. For me it was a couple of weeks cause I was kind of scared to say anything. My dad was the one that asked - why I kept inviting you when you’d never invited me to yours.”

Bill looks up to meet Ted’s eyes and frowns. “I should have known it was your dad. That dickweed.”

Ted laughs at that, elbowing Bill in the ribs. “Dude, don’t. It doesn’t matter. I should have known better than that anyways. You’d never have a birthday party without me.”

“Of course not.”

For a moment, Ted’s just smiling softly down at him and Bill feels that familiar fluttering sensation in his chest. Then Ted knocks his hat off the back of his head and ducks away, giggling, and Bill has to scramble to catch it before he can try to get Ted back - and he kind of forgets about the birthday thing again.

Then it’s the day before Bill’s birthday, and they’re sitting on the couch watching Star Trek, and it hits him. “Oh shit, it’s my birthday tomorrow, dude.”

Ted laughs and turns to him, grinning. “Yeah, dude. How’d you forget?”

Bill shrugs. “I don’t know, I don’t usually really like - think about it. We do stuff before or after and - you know my dad gives me stuff and that makes me remember. But he said all the stuff for the apartment was like early birthday stuff anyways, so I just kind of - forgot. Are we like - having a party?”

Looking back at the television, Ted shrugs - but Bill can just make out a flush spreading over his cheeks. “I dunno, dude. I guess you’ll just have to find out.”

“You’re gonna throw me like - a surprise party?"

Starting to grin, Ted bites his lip, trying to hide it. “Dunno, dude.”

“Ted!”

“What, Bill?”

Bill reaches over and shoves Ted in the shoulder. “Dude! You’re not gonna tell me?”

Laughing, Ted shakes his head, hair falling into his face. “No way, dude! It’s a surprise! I promise it’s gonna be good, okay?”

Things start to fall into place. “Is that why you got home late from work the other night? When you said you picked up a shift?”

Ted shrugs. “Dunno, dude!”

“Ted!” Bill grabs a pillow and whacks Ted in the stomach with it, but Ted just giggles and tries to dodge, squirming around on the couch to avoid Bill’s whacks and nudges.

“You’re gonna have to wait, dude!”

“You’re the worst!” Bill tells him, but he says it through laughter in spite of himself, a little bit breathless from trying to actually get Ted in one place long enough to thrash him with the pillow.

“If you keep beating me up, I’m never gonna tell you what it is.”

“I’m not beating you up,” Bill insists, frowning slightly - but right as he lets up, Ted rolls off of the couch and grabs another pillow, throwing it at Bill.

“You’ll have to wait til tomorrow then I guess!” Ted shouts as he races towards the bedroom, still giggling, and Bill just watches him go, surprised into another laugh.

Ted sticks his head out of the bedroom door, though, and as he stops laughing, he looks a little nervous. “It - it might not be a party, though. Is that - okay? I’m not ruining it, right?”

Bill grins, relieved. “Dude, I don’t even want a party.”

“Excellent,” Ted says, and then he’s gone again, ducked back into the bedroom.

Though he isn’t sure if Ted’s just changing into his pajamas or if he’s actually working on something for tomorrow, Bill stays out of the bedroom just in case, because now he’s actually kind of excited to see whatever it is that Ted has planned. Ted seems so excited that Bill doesn’t want to ruin it.

Once Ted does open the bedroom door again, he’s already hanging out in his bed, playing around on his guitar. After they turn out the light and say goodnight to each other, Bill finds it difficult to fall asleep - and instead he ends up turning onto his side, watching the way Ted’s chest rises and falls with his breathing, and the way his hair falls softly in his face.

Bill tries not to let himself do this too often but - he figures since it’s after midnight, it’s his birthday, so he can do it just this once without feeling too heinous about it.

In the morning, Bill doesn’t wake up to an alarm or the sun, but instead to the smell of something cooking in the kitchen, and the quiet sounds of Ted playing a Van Halen record on the lowest possible volume.

Suddenly excited about the day ahead, Bill stumbles out of the bedroom still in his pajamas and finds Ted in the kitchen, dancing quietly while he makes pancakes.

On the one hand, Bill’s sort of afraid if the whole day is like this he may not live to see the end of it. On the other hand - it would be a most triumphant way to go. Ted’s hips are swaying softly, and he’s still only wearing his boxers, and they’ve ridden up a little between his thighs. It’s warm, today, too, so the windows are open, sunlight streaming in, and Bill can see all the slightly lighter streaks in Ted’s dark brown hair.

They still haven’t even been living together for a full year, so even if Ted made breakfast every day, Bill wouldn’t be used to this kind of sight - but he doesn’t, either. This is special. This is Ted actually trying really hard to make Bill’s birthday special. The fluttery feeling in Bill’s chest returns with a vengeance. He wants to go over and wrap his arms around Ted, press his face in between Ted’s shoulder blades and just stay there.

Instead, he goes over and turns up the music, and Ted jumps so hard he almost knocks the pan off the stove.

Bill laughs, and Ted obviously tries to be mad for just a minute before he breaks and smiles, too, shaking his head.

“Dude, you could scare Brian and Eddie,” Ted tells him, turning back to the stove.

Walking over to the fish bowl, Bill wiggles his fingers in front of the glass just to say hello, then leans in closer to smile. “Morning, little dudes. Sorry about all the noise.” Bill stands back up. “Did you feed them yet?”

“Nah, go ahead if you want.”

Carefully, Bill measures out the fish food and sprinkles it in the top of the bowl, then goes to sit down at the table, watching the fish eat and watching Ted keep working in the kitchen. “Can I ask what you’re making, or is that a secret, too?”

“No way, it’s just pancakes. I can only make so many things, dude.”

Snorting out a laugh, Bill pulls a leg up onto the chair and rests his chin on it, letting himself just stare while Ted’s still got his back turned. “You’re still better off than me, dude. My dad was a bogus cook and Missy was, too.”

“You know I just had to learn so Deacon and I didn’t totally starve.”

“But you make the most excellent pancakes.”

“You always say that,” Ted says. He flips another one onto a plate and brings it over to the table, placing it in the middle. “That’s why I thought it was a good way to start. Take as many as you want, dude. I’ll get the syrup.”

They both eat more pancakes than they probably should, because Ted made a lot of them. They are, though, as always, most delicious. Bill tells Ted as much, and Ted smiles at him, clearly pleased.

“Can I know the plan for the rest of the day now?”

“Well I figured we’d go to the record store, come home and listen to any particularly excellent purchases, like we usually do. Then - uh, the surprise kind of doesn’t work til it’s dark out, dude. So we’ll have to wait for a while before we can hop in the van and go.”

“Alright,” Bill says with a shrug. “If we need to blow time, we could always go to the movies, right?”

“Sure, dude, if you want!”

Bill smiles, perking up, and Ted grins back at him.

Once they’re both showered and dressed, they make their way to the record store first. It is a pretty standard tradition now that Ted buys Bill at least one record every year, something the two of them don’t have yet. To be fair, basically everything they own is communal, now more than ever since they’re sharing a place and store all their records together. Still, the records Ted gets him for his birthday are always excellent, and they have their own special crate, right next to the ones that Bill’s bought Ted.

Their favorite place sells mostly used records - and while they still buy new stuff on vinyl, too, sometimes, they mostly spend their time seeking out all their favorite albums so they can listen to them on vinyl and revel in hearing them the way they were first released.

Today’s hunt pays off pretty quickly when Ted digs out a copy of Jimi Hendrix’s Electric Ladyland and they both discover that it’s the first US pressing from 1968. “Dude,” Ted says quietly, flipping the record over and shoving it into Bill’s hands. Bill grins, and nods at him, and they take it up to the register without even bothering to check out the rest of the store.

They basically rush home, and Bill sets the first disc reverently on the turntable before he and Ted both lay on the floor right in front of the speakers, staring up at the ceiling together as they let the music wash over them. For some reason sitting on the couch never seems like the right way to listen to a truly excellent album for the first time. They always settle in on the floor, in the little clear space that remains, their feet within brushing distance so they can nudge each other at any particularly transcendent part.

Basically, though, the entirety of Electric Ladyland is transcendent. It’s not like it’s a secret, but listening to it like this, the first pressing while he’s laying on the floor with Ted beside him, and on his birthday, is the best thing that Bill can possibly imagine.

They pass over an hour that way, switching off who has to stand up and flip or change out the disc - and when the album is over, they both just lay there in silence for a moment.

“Whoa,” they both say at once, and then Bill turns, and they laugh together.

“Jimi is-” Ted starts.

“Truly maybe the greatest of all time. It’s like, him and Eddie, and Brian May, right up there. Like they totally changed what you can even do with a guitar.”

“Most definitely,” Ted agrees.

For a few more minutes, they both lay there, processing, and then Bill finally sits up, his head spinning. He laughs, mostly to himself, then stands and reaches down to help Ted up.

It’s still light outside, and probably will be for a while. “You wanna see what’s on at the movies?” Ted asks him.

It was Bill’s suggestion - but he likes the feeling here in the apartment, suddenly. Everything is warm and sunny, and Ted’s still bright and smiling, and laying on the floor has left him feeling lazy and contented. “Why don’t we just stay here? We could put on Van Halen’s self-titled? Listen to Eruption and really just double down.”

Ted grins. “Oh, excellent.”

This time, Ted goes to get the record, and Bill settles back on the floor, looking up at Ted from where he sits. He watches as Ted takes their favorite record out of his sleeve, then looks at both sides and flips it in his fingers before he settles it on the turntable.

Then, Ted turns back around with a little spin and smiles before he sits back down on the floor. He’s closer, this time, and when he lays down his knuckles brush against Bill’s in the space between their bodies. Bill could pull away - but it’s his birthday, and he doesn’t want to. Instead, he bumps his hand against Ted’s and closes his eyes, letting the sun from the window fall warm on his face as the music washes over him again.

It takes Led Zeppelin’s self-titled, Sheer Heart Attack, and Disraeli Gears before the sun starts to edge towards the horizon. By then, Bill is sleepy, warm and perfectly happy.

Ted, though, has started to get fidgety. He spends all of Take it Back and Mother’s Lament glancing at the changing light in the window and messing with his bracelets, looking like at any moment he might get up and turn off the record before it’s even finished.

As soon as it is, though, Ted stays exactly where he is, his heels knocking restlessly against the ottoman.

“Ted?” Bill asks.

“Huh?” Ted seems to snap out of something, turning his head so fast his hair whips around his face.

“Dude, the record’s over? And it’s started to get dark, are we heading out soon?” Bill sits up, slowly, and stretches with his arms over his head.

For a moment, Ted just stares at him, and then he looks back over towards the windows. “Well - I guess by the time we get there it’ll be dark, but - if you don’t wanna go anywhere, we don’t have to, dude.”

Bill blinks, and frowns. “What about the surprise?”

“I just - I guess I’m just kind of nervous, maybe I was wrong and you won’t like it. I don’t wanna ruin it.”

“Ruin what? My whole day’s been most excellent.”

Ted shrugs, and ducks his head. “That’s kind of what I mean, Bill. Cause if you don’t like it, then I like - kind of messed it up, like I did it in the wrong order, you know?”

“Dude,” Bill says. Scooting closer, he places his hand over Ted’s, totally at a loss for how else to comfort him. “Whatever it is, I’m sure I’m gonna love it. You’re totally great at this. Like I said, you always make sure I have a good birthday. I’m not worried about it, Ted.”

Though he sort of scrunches his mouth to one side, still looking nervous, Ted nods, and it almost seems normal. “Okay. I guess we should head out, then.” He stands up with just one short squeeze of Bill’s hand. He ducks into the bedroom, then comes back out with his own jacket in one hand and Bill’s in the other. “Here, you might need this. It might get cold.”

Shrugging a jacket on over his cropped shirt, Bill grabs his hat, too, and follows Ted out the front door. Night time and the fact that the weather has something to do with it are still the only hints that Bill’s gotten all day, and he is most intrigued.

They get back in the van, but this time Ted drives, because he’s the only one who knows where they’re going.

In the dark it’s hard to tell - but soon the roads start to look sort of familiar. “Wait - Ted, isn’t this the way out to the desert?”

“Yeah,” Ted says quietly, just barely loud enough for Bill to hear him over the music. “I know it’s - like maybe that seems dumb but I promise it’ll make sense when we get there?”

“It’s not dumb, I just don’t get it, yet. I’m sure I will, though.”

Ted nods, but he turns up the music, drowning out the possibility of conversation.

When the van stops, it’s right by a very familiar cliff. Bill waits for a minute, but once Ted turns off the van, he just hops out, so Bill follows him.

Ted opens up the doors at the back, and for the first time, Bill notices that there’s a blanket laid out the back seat, along with a guitar, and some snacks and drinks. Bill blinks at all the stuff, then turns to Ted with his eyebrows raised.

“Um - okay well, mostly it’s just - you know when we were out here before I noticed it’s kind of - nice at night? Like you can see the stars from here. The way you can’t in San Dimas. And I thought we could just - come out here and hang out but then I - there’s still. Another thing I wanted to give you.”

Bill looks up, first, and finds that Ted was right. The sky is full of stars out here, more than Bill’s over seen. “Whoa.” Then he turns back around, frowning at Ted. “You already got me that record, though. If you get me anything else, that’s like - I’m not gonna know how to pay you back on your birthday.”

Shrugging, Ted sits down in the back of the van, scooting back onto the blanket. “So don’t. It’s not about that. And - anyways if you totally hate it, if anything maybe I owe you another birthday present.”

“No way, dude,” Bill says crawling into the back of the van so he can settle in on the blanket. It turns out, too, that Ted’s lined the bottom of the van with quilts and pillows, so it’s all totally soft to lay down on. Bill settles on his back and looks up at Ted, able to see past him and glimpse the sky full of stars, too. “This is like the best birthday I’ve ever had,” he says, only it comes out quieter than he meant it to.

Flushing, Ted looks over at Bill, hand pausing where it rests on the guitar. “Well. I’m glad.” After a moment, he looks away, ducking behind his hair, and pulls the guitar into his lap. It’s an acoustic - which Bill didn’t even know they owned, but apparently they do. “But I, uh. I wrote you a song?”

“Whuh?” Bill asks, so totally lost for words he doesn’t even manage a real one.

“That’s - that’s the surprise. I was working on it last week and - sometimes when you were at work.” He fidgets with the tuning keys, then gently plucks at the strings, checking the sound. “I just wanted to surprise you. It’s not like - I don’t know if it’s finished yet. And it might be - if you think it’s dumb you can just tell me to stop and then you don’t have to say anything, we can just. Put on a tape and look at the stars for a while before we go home.”

Bill knows, already, without even hearing it, that he’s going to love it. He and Ted have written together, sure, songs about their frustrations, or about rock and roll, or about how music can bring people together - but nobody’s ever written Bill a song. And it’s not just anybody either, it’s Ted. Ted  _ wrote him a song _ .

If Bill ever thought that fluttery feeling in his chest was weird before, now it’s totally out of control. He sits up again, scooting closer to Ted, bringing his knees up to his chest so he can watch while he listens.

“Um, I guess - should I just start?” Ted peeks out from behind his hair, and Bill can see that his face is red, totally flushed, even to the tips of his ears.

“Yeah, come on, dude, I wanna hear it.” Bill scoots a little closer, and nudges his knee against Ted’s.

“Okay,” Ted says quietly. And then - he starts to play.

The melody is soft, maybe intentionally and maybe just because Ted’s moving his fingers so gently over the strings, which could just be because he’s nervous. It’s beautiful, though - it might be the most beautiful song Bill’s ever heard, and that sounds ridiculous after everything he and Ted listened to today, but he doesn’t care. He’s riveted.

Then Ted starts to sing.

He’s quiet, and his voice is a little rough, so it’s hard for Bill to catch all the words, but there’s definitely a line where Ted says “ _ your smile speaks books to me _ ,” and Bill feels like maybe his heart is beating so hard that Ted could hear it.

At one point, Ted’s fingers stumble over the strings, and the guitar twangs loudly, and he gets so embarrassed he stops playing, pressing his fingers tight against the strings to quiet them. “That’s - I mean that’s kind of the main part anyways, like the chorus and - stuff, um-”

But that’s enough for Bill. He leans forward, nudges the guitar out of the way, grabs Ted’s hand in his, and pulls him into a kiss. Ted lets out a little surprised noise, pressed against Bill’s lips, humming into the kiss - but before Bill can doubt himself or pull away, Ted’s hand comes up to clutch at the back of his neck, holding him closer to kiss back.

Their lips part with a quiet sound, and Bill glances down at the guitar. “Guess we should get this out of the way, huh?”

“Did you - like the song, then?” Ted asks, one hand still keeping the guitar held close to his chest, like he’s still nervous somehow.

“Ted, it was the most beautiful song I’ve ever heard, dude. I didn’t even know you could write like that.”

Ted smiles, softly, and lets go of the guitar enough that Bill can tug it from his hands and set it gently against the wall of the van.

“Now, c’mere, dude.”

“Okay,” Ted says, grinning, and he comes easily when Bill pulls him close, laying down on the floor of the van.

When Bill leans up to kiss Ted, Ted follows him back down to the floor, laying half on top of him, shoulder and one of his hands resting on Bill’s chest, pressed right over his heart. They kiss slowly at first, both of them hesitant, testing out how it feels. When neither of them pull away, though, the kisses get longer, and Bill licks his way into Ted’s mouth, just to taste him. He finally runs his hands over Ted’s back, up to his shoulder blades, and lets them rest there, holding him close while they trade long, indulgent kisses.

Ted pulls back just for a moment, and Bill can see a shine on his lip where they’re damp from the kiss, highlighted just by the starlight and overhead light in the van.

Unable to resist, Bill tugs him back down and kisses him again.

“This is definitely the best birthday ever, Ted,” he mutters as he kisses over Ted’s flushed cheek, down to his jaw. “I was totally right.”

Ted smiles, and presses his nose against Bill’s temple, nuzzling close right above his ear. “I’m glad, dude.”

And so they stay there, kissing under the stars in their van, Bill so full up with love that he feels like he might burst from it - but maybe, he thinks to himself as he pushes his hands up under Ted’s shirt. Maybe he’ll just write his own song about it, in time for Ted’s birthday.

**Author's Note:**

> klsdfm i'm SORRY about the fade to black but this was already lkjasdf longer than intended and almost way late for bill's birthday and i am sfdjk SO sleepy y'all. it's been a long day.
> 
> BUT HERE, JUST BARELY IN TIME IF YOU'RE NOT IN EST! a birthday fic for our very own bill s. preston esquire. you can decide for yourself what happened in the back of the van before they had to drive home, but whatever it was i'm sure bill did in fact continue to have the best birthday ever. good for him.
> 
> if you enjoyed this, let me know!! i literally wrote this in one sitting, so i'm still workin' on side b and chapter 2 of the tour fic, this was just. a fun lil birthday treat!!! you can also, as always, hit me up on twitter too @eddykaspbraks


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